


Villain

by gladerhead



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), The Isle of the Lost Series - Melissa de la Cruz
Genre: AU, Anti Beast/Adam, Auradon is a very different place, Dark Descendants, Everything is supposed to be 'perfect' but really they're all falling apart, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mal isn't really herself at the start, Rating May Change, The Core Four never left the Isle, flawed AU, slowburn, warnings for any potentially triggering subjects will be placed in the notes prior to the chapter :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-05-31 07:26:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19421269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gladerhead/pseuds/gladerhead
Summary: Ever since the reformation of the United States of Auradon and the abolishment of the Isle, Mal feels like she has finally found her place within society. She is a villain no more. She is an equal. She watches on as those who are branded 'villains' in the new order are punished and segregated from society. But that is no longer a concern of hers. She is perfect. She is without flaw. Her mothers grasp and the weight of her name lays dead in the past. That is until Mal risks her supposedly perfect lifestyle for someone she hasn't seen in a long time. A villain. A certain blue haired villain of her wretched past at that.





	1. Blur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is dedicated to Cameron Boyce (May 28th 1999 - July 6th 2019). May his memory be a blessing to us all.
> 
> Link to The Cameron Boyce Foundation: https://thecameronboycefoundation.networkforgood.com/projects/77872-the-cameron-boyce-foundation

* * *

FULL NAME: Maleficia "Mal" Bertha Artem

AGE: 17

DOB: October 31st 2002

CITIZEN NUMBER: #0174

SECTOR: 1 

VILLAIN (Y/N): No

* * *

She read through the record a few times, a satisfied smile on her lips as she slipped the relevant sheet of paper back into the brown file. It was a wonderful feeling. Mal had thought that by now she would have gotten used to it, but reading her official public record, which was set without a stain of her mother's name, or her past, was the most fulfilling feeling she could have felt.

'Maleficia'. Evil deeds in Latin. Nobody really knew that, nor did they even know that 'Mal' was simply the short version. Nobody ever called her Maleficia. Not even her mother. Soon though, hopefully, she would be able to change it for good, and yet another reminder of her past would be ridden of forever. Which was why she found herself sitting in a quiet corner of City Hall, reading through her documents and signing papers. Everything, as expected, was in order. During the reformation she had been given the oppurtunity to change her surname and seeing as on the Isle there was no system of documentation, it was not like they knew what it was anyway. And frankly, they didn't care. 

'Artem'. Art in Latin. She had always considered herself artistic and it was a trait that she was keen to shine some light on with her new character. Mal the Artist. That's who she was. Nothing more, nothing less.

Even though it was only three years ago, Mal had little recollection of what life was like before Auradon. She seemed to recall... the weight. The weight she had to bare under Maleficent's tyrancy, perhaps. This sinking feeling that brought aching pains to her head as she tried to reflect. As if her body was reminding her that there was no need or even want to reflect. Most memories of struggle and hardship were surpressed, exactly as they should be, in her head. The start of her 'rebirth' however, still hung in her head. It was the only day which she could picture clearly.

* * *

It started with the screaming. 

Loud. Coming from all directions. It was deafening. Mal was tucked away in a dark, damp and rotting corner of her hideout, painting the walls with vibrant lilac flames, rooting from one end of the room to the other. Where she had stopped, the flames were smudged, hues of purple melting and merging together to illustrate her surprise, leading to the abrupt stop of colour. She dropped the can in her hands, quickly stalking over to the window near her makeshift bed. 'Window' was generous. It was just a rotten, crumbled hole in the wall. She hadn't slept up here in a while (unless _things_ got really bad), as the cold of the night was just too much to bare and she wasn't exactly equipped with thick feather sheets.

What she saw simply confused her even more. People were running, yelling, dispersing in different directions. She dismissed it at first, assuming someone had decided to terrorise yet another boring day for the sake of their sanity but her attention was suddenly drawn to the moving blurs of blue and gold. Her emerald orbs widened with curiosity, her suspicions being confirmed when one of them finally stopped running within her view, taking note of his surroudings. An Auradon guard. Dressed head to toe with pride in the national colours, glistening medals of honour pinned to his crisp uniform, face almost obscured under the tall hat on his head. It was only when she stopped looking at his uniform, (still in a rather bemused state of disbelief), that she looked up to realise he was staring straight at her, an unreadable expression plastered on his face. 

She jumped back from the window, rather alarm. She didn't want any part in this. She wasn't sure why they were here or what they were doing but she wasn't too keen on finding out. Auradon guards radiated disgust. On an isle, surrounded by those they were sworn to detest. Mal had seen things before, on the very rare occassion that one or two found themselves on the Isle, that had set her off the guards for life. She was smarter than to get in their way. Therefore, alarm bells immediately started ringing when she heard the aggressive rattling of the gates below her hideout. Quickly, she grabbed her bag, and started for the rather unstable fire exit stairwell round the back of the building. However, no sooner had she opened the door before she slammed it shut, having seen a group of the uniformed guards standing underneath the metal grate. Her own breath was starting to sound deafening in itself as she stood, helpless. She inhaled a sharp breath, realising she wasn't thinking straight. Surely, she was safe up here. The hideout was protected by a tall wired fence, and the only way to . She was too much of a bother for them, they'd give up soon enough.

That was what she thought before she heard the sound of voices, and then the cutting of the wire. No fair, that was definitely against the rules. It was unclear what they wanted. Perhaps she could count quite a few recent incidents where she 'stepped out of line', being the daughter of Maleficent of course, but that was hardly ever Auradon's concern. They preferred the blind eye approach above all else. L'asseiz faire. If she had the time, she would have booby trapped the place, sure that she could scrummage enough to do the job but there wasn't time. She could hear the heavy sound of footsteps approaching, so Mal knew that all she could do was to fight her way through it. To kick and scream and shout until they left her alone. However, it was in that brief moment that she realised she could no longer hear screaming. All that was left to accompany her was the sound of her breath and the racing beat of her heart, and it chilled her to the core. She didn't have time to think any longer though, as the next thing Mal knew, they were in the room. She wasn't sure how many of them there were, or what they looked like, because the second the door opened she started to thrash about, charging at the blur of blue and gold, kicking and screaming, fighting to get out the door. 

That was the last she remembered of the Isle, as she felt a prick in her arm, the thrashing slowing down, her body helplessly shrinking in on itself as it collapsed into the blur's arms, eyes drooping. 

There were two big boats. One contained all the villain kids of the Isle. Those that had been born after it's establishment. The ones who had been "corrupted" supposedly without much option. Mal never woke to see this boat but it was packed, from toddlers to teenagers, all demanding to know just what was going on. 

The other boat contained all of the 'true villains'. Those who 'deserved' the Isle and lead to it's establishment in the first place. For the sake of it, they were all kept in cells below deck, apart from one another. This boat followed in the path of the other, before steering at a different course, to land at a remote port of the United States of Auradon. The other boat however, docked at the main port of the kingdom at 'Belle's Harbour' - which would later be renamed as City Harbour, bordering on both Sector 1 (Auradon City) and Sector 2 (South Eden) - where all the children were escorted into limos and taken straight to the G.O.O.D Youth Correctional Facility.

It was here that they were all informed of the new order. The new Auradon. An Auradon which was split into 'sectors', governed by local councils and an overall government situated in Auradon City. An Auradon with no monarchy, and very little hierarchy - at least, that was the idea. An Auradon with no magic. An Auradon in which they would not be persecuted, so long as they embraced goodness. No longer were they to be 'villain kids'. They would learn more over time but first they had to get through the correctional facility program, in order to be welcomed in to society as a functioning, proper citizen. Evil and sin were to be left on that boat if they were to ever hope for the chance of prosperity and oppurtunity and though Mal had been rather suspicious and reluctant at first, it seemed to be her only option. She didn't want to find out what would happen if she didn't go along with it.

And she didn't have to. She learned the rules and was treated well in return. That's what she remembered of the experience at least. A lot of it seemed to be lost in a haze. In what felt like surely no time at all, she was free. Free to be... Mal. No longer was she Maleficent's daughter or the maniacal spawn of evil itself. Just Mal. Everybody smiled at her. They waved and shook her hand and complimented her on her new shiny blonde locks. It was overwhelming.

As for the villains in the other boat, they had been taken to a separate and much more controlled facility. It was there that they too were given the chance to be 'reborn'. The Isle had truly worn quite a few of them down, and most eventually gave in. Few who even did exceptionally well in the program and had a history of minimal offence were given the chance to reunite with their children after they got out. It was decided for most however, that starting entirely fresh would be giving _everyone_ a better start.

It was rather unclear what happened to those who did not conform.

All Mal knew was that she hadn't seen her mother for 3 years and she doubted she would ever see her again.

* * *

**G** uild

**O** f

**O** rder &

**D** emocracy

A new and very highly funded department of the government, controlled by Judge Adam Floraison, who took the position after stepping down as King of former Auradon. He had of course been offered a high seat on the Auradon City government but his interest seemed to lie in this new authorative role, which in itself, was arguably the most powerful of them all.

G.O.O.D enforced the rules around 'Villainy' and decided who were to be deemed 'Villains'. There were all sorts of rules and regulations but lots of things that weren't necessarily black and white could be considered villainous deeds. That is why, they went through the G.O.O.D court. The court was located in the centre of Auradon City. 

If the defendant was found guilty of villainy then they were to be labelled as a Villain for the rest of their life, for crimes against Auradon. Villain's are branded on the tongue with a giant V, so that whenever they may speak, people will know they are talking to the stains of society. The scum. The outcasts. Villain's were also required to follow a strict set of regulations with many restrictions on their day to day life, as a punishment for their crimes. Not all were disclosed to the public, but many were taught and recited in schools, almost as a warning. Never cross that line.

\- Villains may not travel outside of their sector without signed consent from the local council.

\- Villains may never travel outside of the USA.

\- Villains must sit in the segregated seats of public transport, however if there are no seats available for regular citizens, Villains must give up their seats.

\- Villains must wear the issued neon green shirt so they are identifiable to the public. Jewellery is not permitted.

\- Villains are denied access to both their own and any other public records from City Hall.

\- Villains must report weekly to correctional therapy (they shall be assigned a S.O.O.D - Soldier of Order & Democracy).

\- Villains must take weekly lie detectors and tests to ensure they have not consumed any alcohol or drugs, which will be operated by their S.O.O.D.

\- Villains must be inside their registered home by their designated curfew.

And many, many more.

To become a Villain was to ruin your life. Villains didn't get a happy ending. They didn't get prosperity and oppurtunity. And they most certainly did not get a second chance. They were the scapegoats of society, the ones to blame for everything and anything. They lived separate lives, in their own personal prison. If it could be considered living at all. 

It was impossible to even imagine what life was like as a 'Villain'. Not even Mal herself could say that she understood. She had repressed anything inside her that could ever take her down that route again. She was not her mother's daughter and she wanted the world to know that. She was not a villain and she would never, ever be one.

It was extremely rare that someone went into a trial and came out without the branding. 

* * *

The sun had almost set by the time that Mal was finished up at City Hall. She made her way down the marble steps, umbrella in hand at the ready just in case. It had been a rainy September so far, and Mal had spent most of her time hiding away indoors to avoid getting caught up with the disappointing weather. She made it down to the pavement when a small silver car pulled up along beside her. She couldn't help the small smile on her face as the driver side window rolled down, Ben Florian Floraison's (she made fun of him all the time) head popping out to grin back at her. 

"Lovely day, isn't it?" He teased and she laughed in response, stuffing the umbrella back in her bag and walking out on the road to open the passenger side door. Ben gestured to the two 'Bertie's Coffee' cups, sitting in the cupholder, with an excited smile. He always seemed to stretch himself for her. Look for little things to surprise her and make her day better. But by this point, Mal couldn't help but expect it of him. He was adorably predictable. 

She picked up the cup, checking it wasn't too hot before taking a sip, letting out a gentle sigh and hum of content. She turned to Ben, who was looking at her expectantly, that excited look still plastered on his face, as if waiting for her. She decided to humour him, a flicker of a smirk on her lips. 

"Mm black coffee, my favourite. _How on earth_ did you know? You're the best." She drawled. This seemed to satisfy Ben, who leaned over the cups to kiss her. Soft and sweet. He was just so... Ben.

There were additional advantages that came with dating the Head Judge of G.O.O.D's son. Mal was always trying to find out from Ben just what was going on. Which hero of the old Auradon age was rumored to be put on trial next? (those were always the big and highly covered cases), which heinous crime had lead to mass branding? Though, Mal knew there was no point in pushing him too much. Not only did Ben often not want to talk about his father and his job, but he didn't seem to know much either. He was just as in the dark as the rest of the kingdom. And there was something so thrilling about it that Mal couldn't place. 

As Ben drove down the streets of Auradon City, clasping on to the last stretch of sunlight, Mal's gaze directed out the window, watching the blurs of movement that passed by. It was like this every day. Gentle sunsets leading her home to her safe and secure bungalow at Golden Gate; the most prestigious gated neighbourhood in the sector and thanks to Ben, Mal was the only 17 year old living alone in the exclusive community. All the other kids who had come over from Auradon had moved into set up council flats and high rise appartment buildings, built in other sectors or in less affluent areas of the city, but Mal was living the dream. She was very much supported by Ben and his family, and for that she was eternally grateful. To everyone else, the Floraison's were an influential and wealthy poster family who encompassed goodness and perfection with every inch of their being. To Mal, they were the family she never had. 

She was overwhelmed with comfort and warmth, watching as the sun disappeared behind tall, red brick estates and nourished greenery. Yet somewhere, on this particular day, there was something unsettling about the looming orange glow of the sky. The white picket fences seemed a little too bright and the blurs of movement morphed into messier, indistinguishable images. The ache was there again, taunting her, teasing her. 

Mal was only brought back into reality when she felt Ben's car come to an abrupt stop, her body lurching forward. The mess settled and her vision was clear, the ache, decamped. She turned to Ben, who did not look back at her, but stared ahead with a distinguished and animated expression of horror. Mal, truly unsettled, followed his eyes, which landed on the scene a few hundred yards down the road. 

A woman was dragging her hands along the pavement, trying to stand, her limbs shaking. She fell, defeated, her body crumpling in on itself with a ghastly cry. She was surrounded by what Mal could make out as a group of teenagers, most of them in the years below herself. Torn brown paper bags littered the otherwise pristine road, the groceries which the woman had been carrying sat now in the hands of her assailants, before being hurled down at her. Their sounds of laughter, cruel and spiteful, rung in the air and Mal felt her face burning up in anger. She turned back to Ben, her tone demanding. "We need to call your father. He'll have this taken care of. They're going to beat the poor lady to death."

But Ben did not move, his knuckles white as he clenched onto the steering wheel. Mal was left speechless, staring at the boy in disturbed awe. He was so good, so kind. He would never stand for this. 

It was then that the woman lifted her head, trembling hands pushing black locks from her face, looking up at her much younger attackers like a wounded animal. Mal recognised her in an instant, and it suddenly became clear as to why Ben was not moving a muscle. 

Alana Triton had wanted it all. She didn't care much for the ocean as her sisters had done. Her calling was the big city, rather than the sea. She wanted her name in lights, she wanted a legacy, she wanted everything and anything. Her family had been regarded as an ideal. She lived an affluent life, built upon a modelling career (which was a given with her undeniable beauty). She was respected, idolised even. Everything about her life seemed perfect. That was, until the local tabloids uncovered the affair. _**Nobody**_ had seen it coming, surely. 

Her husband had set her up for trial almost instantaneously, and it didn't take them long to find her guilty. A liar and a cheat. They painted her as cruel, abandoning both her old family and her new kin to pursue her own selfish desires. A star in decline, desperate to further her career, a ruthless, cunning and spiteful woman. The public chewed up every single word and it wasn't long before her world came crumbling down.

Mal swallowed, nervous. They ought not to be looking, she knew. They should drive past with their heads held high before anyone saw them. But she watched, unblinking, as one of the teenagers picked up a small stone from the curb and threw it at Alana's raised head, hitting her eye. She recoiled, a scream of pain rattling through her, her mouth slacked open in shock and terror, revealing the ugly and scarred V on her tongue. The crowd jeered and mocked her, heckling and chanting in a cultish manner, circling their prey. Alana wasn't wearing the green shirt. A perfect excuse it seemed, for the locals to take out their frustrations. When she refused to fight any further, they slowly and finally dispersed, spitting over her weak form. 

Only one teenager left stood there. A tall, lean girl who had been hanging at the back of the gang the whole time. She had not said a word. Painfully slow, Alana raised herself up on her elbows, hauling herself on to her knees. She raised her head, and the teen looked away. The eye that had been hit with the rock was bloody and a dark bruise had circled its way around the wound. Tear tracks stained her cheeks. She looked nothing like the former Auradon beauty, the girl who had it all. As she stared up at the teen, she saw a reflection of said past, with no blur. There, her younger self stood, same black hair and piercing blue eyes. 

Piercing blue eyes that refused to meet her bloody own. 

"Please..." It was barely audible, shaky and quiet. "I love you, _please_." She whispered, over and over again. It got louder, desperate cries falling from the monster's mouth. Neighbours watched from behind partly drawn curtains, but the world was still. "Darling, please!" She was screaming now, and the distant sound of sirens started to drone. The teen did not move, tears mirroring the woman as she started to walk in the opposite direction, feet dragging themselves along the pavement. Despite Alana's screams she did not move back. 

Mal watched as Arabella left her mother behind, the screams of the woman hauntingly echoing along the road, vibrating in Mal's ears. Though they seemed to drag to a stop, in Mal's head they were only getting louder. After a moment's quiet, she turned to Ben, her own voice shaking. 

"Drive." She said, her voice coming out choked, caught in her throat. There was no need to say anything else, as Ben started the engine. She stared forwards, her expression blank, as the car sped down the otherwise empty road.

There was nothing more they could do than forget, letting the obsessive sounds of howls and wails bury themselves with the sun, as the night fell over the happy and harmonious kingdom of Auradon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written in so long, so forgive me if it's a little off as I'm getting back into the swing of things. I've been planning out this fic for a while now and I cannot wait to share it with you all and discuss it. Drop me a comment and let me know what you think or message/send me an ask on my tumblr: @thomasdohertyy
> 
> This fic is inspired by an amazing book that I read on holiday in Italy called Flawed by Cecelia Ahern. Definitely check it out. I'm so excited to write this one and let you in to the world that's been hanging in my head for a while now. It's going to get angsty folks. 
> 
> (Also, 'The Lost Studio' and 'The Bigger Picture' are still very much in the works and I've got so much inspo to work with now so for those who have been asking, keep your eyes peeled.)


	2. Chocolate Truffles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal faces her last year at Auradon Prep and it's destined to go smoothly. That is until a turbulent day sets her off down the wrong path. It feels like nothing more can go wrong but it's only the start.

Auradon Prep was one of the only buildings that stood mostly untouched following the reformation. It was still a grand structure of prestige and influence, playing an imperative role in moulding and shaping the minds of the youth. It was the best educational experience the country had to offer, and served as a breeding ground for goodness and perfection. 

The infamous stone exterior remained the same, however, where the statue of 'King Beast' had once been erected, stood a tall flagpole, which hoisted the national banner for onlookers to gaze upon in admiration and reflection. Gone were the popping shades of blue and yellow, decorated with symbols of the Beast's reign. Instead, the banner was a much sounder blue, adorned with the symbol of a dove, clutching a sheath of arrows in its claws. The words; ' **Puritatis et Virtutis'** scrawled underneath **.**

Mal had spent the past three years of her life at Auradon Prep. She was top of her art class and a respected and admired figure, well on her way to becoming head girl in her final year. Despite her admittable attachment to the establishment, though, she did not board. She preferred the privacy and solitude that Golden Gate provided her. With Ben's help, she'd even turned one of the rooms of her small house into her own personal studio. Despite this, Auradon Prep would always be another home. She felt safe, surrounded by like-minded, good-willed people and adults who seemed to truly care about her future. Everyone believed that she was going to do wonderful things.

The new term had only just started but it had been fairly relaxed so far. Mal had almost forgotten about the incident the night before, before she spied the decorated pastel box of chocolate truffles that Ben had left her in her locker, with a little note attached, ensuring she was alright. She barely had any time to think about them before she caught someone she was eager to see walking by in the corner of her eye. Hurriedly, Mal shoved the box back into her locker and shut the door, turning around to grab Arabella's arm, pulling her aside. The girl looked rather fearful at first, until she met Mal's eyes. Her consterned gaze then became stony, and her body tensed in Mal's hold.

"Are you okay?" Mal kept her voice down, letting go of the other girl's arm. She glanced around for a moment, trying to keep the encounter as inconspicuous as possible. Arabella let out a harsh scoff, something that Mal was unsure she'd ever heard before out of the usually timid girl. Her usual distinctly pretty and gentle expression was painted by an ugly frown and that look alone caused Mal's cheeks to burn.

"Am I okay? Is that really what you're asking me right now? _Now_ you talk to me?" Arabella shook her head, laughing in genuine disbelief and Mal could feel herself burning up even more from embarassment, praying that nobody was walking past right now. The other girl lowered her voice but her sharp expression did not falter. 

"I just wanted to check up on you. I heard some things and I-" 

"You _heard_ some things, did you? You and the rest of that cursed neighbourhood." 

Mal opened her mouth to retort but it was at that moment that she noticed the tears welling up behind Arabella's bright blues.

"Please don't pretend that you care. You never did. You'll never understand what it's like to live like this. Nobody ever will." Her voice trembled, dropping to a shaky whisper. " _Can you blame her, Mal?_ " 

She left Mal there, stunned by their encounter, hurrying off down the corridor with her eyes glued to the ground. That familiar ache started to drone inside Mal's head again and she winced, her mind clinging on to Arabella's final words. 

Mal couldn't remember too much about it, except what she'd been taught in her 'History of G.O.O.D' classes, which they'd introduced to the curriculum fairly recently. She had always noticed Arabella squirm in those lessons.

The reformation had of course not come without resistance. Particularly those who were users of magic, as though the old U.S.A in itself was restrictive, the new Auradon planned to permanently null the use of magic for everyone. The most infamous example being; the mermaids. The mermaids had tried to revolt, using violent and endangering tactics to 'selfishly guard' the magic they had been gifted. Being the fair and just organisation that G.O.O.D were striving to become, they pardoned the mermaids from the new Villain system if they surrendered, but as punishment, every single last tail was stripped away. Mal wasn't sure how they did it, but mermaids didn't exist any longer. Not in the way they used to. 

She would watch as Arabella tensed and clenched her fists. As her hands shook and her head hung down with every mention of her kind. Mal could never tell if it was in disgust at herself or in disgust at those around her.

It was a strange thought to imagine Arabella with a tail. She didn't even know it would look like.

Mal was snapped out of her thoughts however when a tall figure suddenly restricted her view. She looked up, meeting face to face with Ben, admittedly one of the last people she felt she could see today. He was looking down at her with evident concern and by routine, she attempted to avoid his invasive gaze. She turned back to her locker, pulling out her bag as he started to speak, that familiar worried tone in his voice. 

"Was that Arabella? Is she okay? Are _you_ okay?" 

She closed the locker door, fiddled with the combination lock and then checked again to ensure it was locked, before finally turning to Ben, an endearing smile on her face. She cupped his cheek, thumb gently drawing patterns on his skin.

"I'm fine. Don't let your hair go grey over me." Mal reached up on her tiptoes to plant a soft kiss to his cheek, the colour returning to his pale skin, tightly drawn expression replaced by a goofy grin within seconds. Ben didn't seem entirely satisifed though, as he stayed there, as if waiting for her. She raised an eyebrow at him expectantly and he seemed to snap out of his momentary trance. 

"Right, well, I actually came over to escort you to lunch." He smiled, his tone hopeful as he linked arms with her. Mal grinned, allowing him for once to whisk her away.

" _Escort me_ to lunch? You are literally the biggest dork." She rolled her eyes, playfully resisting as he pulled her along in the direction of the cafeteria. 

"You love me for it." He teased in return, nudging her, and it was only then she realised he was actually seriously escorting her to lunch. 

It wasn't that Mal hated eating with Ben or anything. She just preferred having these little moments to herself. She'd find somewhere on the grounds and sketch with her own little picnic. It was impossible to think surrounded by other people and their loud voices. Besides, their lunch table always got a little crowded, and by crowded, what Mal really meant was awkward.

* * *

Chad and Gil sat down with them first, as expected. Chad and Ben had been close since childhood, having been raised as fellow members of the aristocracy as youngsters. They didn't exactly talk so much now, but relatively, they were still friends. Chad and Gil had been dating for about 10 months now. Perhaps one of the best things to come out of the reformation was the significantly lower rates in discrimination it lead to. After all, to discriminate against someone (unless it is over their present villainy) is a crime punishable by branding. Nobody had seen it coming at first but they'd just happened to naturally gravitate towards one another and it was like destiny. At least, that's how Chad saw it. Gil was rather clueless about all of that. 

What was evident to everyone though was that Gil had clearly made Chad a better person, and though Mal sometimes thought he was insufferably snobbish and arrogant, she couldn't help but admit that the two were a sweet and genuine couple. 

Alongside Chad came Audrey. She too, had grown up as someone who had it all. Ben's childhood sweetheart, dreaming of Queendom and her perfect fairtytale ending until... all of her family's titles and legacy were stripped from under her nose. Their land was taken and distributed amongst the sectors as government owned property. Now, she was nothing. She was just Audrey. And whilst blending in with the crowd sat well enough for Mal, it certainly did not do for her. That's what caused a great deal of the tension at the table. The clear resentment hanging in the air. Mal, at first, had suspected that it was jealousy. She thought Audrey was jealous of her and Ben, and that despite the fact Ben was no longer to be a King, he was still treating her like his Queen. However, it was then that she slowly came to realise that Audrey did not want Ben. She perhaps, hated him even more than she hated Mal. Because in both worlds, Ben was someone important. To Audrey, he had lost nothing whilst she had lost everything, and that was infuriating. 

Sometimes, Jay would come and sit with them too. He knew Gil, Chad and Ben. They all did fencing together. Jay seemed 'cool' but he didn't speak much. Ben always called him the 'lone wolf' of the pack. A wallflower, even. Mal liked his presence though. It was oddly calming. She often got the feeling that he may have been around her more than she recalled back on the Isle, and the only time they had spoken in Auradon he had mentioned that she supposedly had to 'cash in a few favours' after he had her back in 'a few scraps' but there wasn't much more to it than that.

Lastly, Gil's presence also brought along Uma. Uma with the bright blue box braids. Uma with the sharp tongue. Uma with a burning, fiery, passionate hatred for Mal which Mal couldn't quite comprehend or understand. It was the days when Uma tagged along that truly created the most awkward lunches.

And it seemed like today was going to be one of those days. 

The table was fairly quiet at first, though Gil tried his best to strike up good conversation. There wasn't much to talk about and the only thing vaguely interesting was the encounter at Golden Gate the previous night, though it didn't seem Mal or Ben were willing to share their tale. 

Eventually, the boys started off their own conversation around practice, leaving Mal to sit uncomfortably opposite the other two, who seemed to be pleasantly engaged in each other's silent company. She noticed however, after a little while, they would shuffle closer and one of them would mumble something. Short and simple, but it would make a flash of a smirk or grin appear on the other's face. This continued for a while and Mal couldn't help but notice every little detail of the exchange. It was starting to drive her up the wall. This was not her day.

Turn. Shuffle. Mumble. Grin.

Turn. Shuffle. Mumble. Grin.

Turn. Shuffle. Mumble-

"If you have something to say then you can say it to my face." She finally interrupted, her words sharp and snappy, catching the boys attention as the table fell silent. Audrey and Uma were left momentarily shocked, before the latter shaked her head, bemused.

"Not everything is about you, you know." Audrey retorted, a hint of cockiness to her tone, and Mal figured it was probably the reaction they'd desired all along. She shrunk back in her seat, fiddling with her cutlery. She could feel Ben reaching for her other hand under the table but she recoiled back before he could touch her. In doing so she'd seemed to miss that the conversation hadn't ended there, and only just picked up on the end of Uma's sentence.

"The world according to Mal." She grinned, taking another satisfied mouthful of her food.

Mal's head snapped back up, hands momentarily clenching before she inhaled deeply, letting her whole body relax. She tossed back her blonde locks, gritting her teeth. "If that's how you see it, then why don't you leave?" 

Uma cocked an eyebrow in response, pleased at the challenge. "Because I'm not here for you. It shouldn't be _that_ hard to understand." She drawled plainly, stirring about the food on her tray.

Mal was quick this time, opening her mouth to snap back at her before Gil interjected.

"Let's not do this again? Can't we just be civil? You guys are my friends and I want _everyone_ here at this table." He smiled, literally gesturing to the rest of them encouragingly. His positive attitude annoyingly radiated off of him, and it was hard to argue with or reject his gentle charm. Despite the fact that at her friends request, Uma had already backed down, Gil felt the need to continue. "I can tell things are a little off right now and that's okay. We've all heard about what happened at Golden Gate and Ben told us everything about what you guys saw," he turned to Mal "so it's alright to feel a little on edge right now."

Gil took her hand, giving it a light squeeze, though Mal's attention was on Ben, who had awkwardly hung his head to stare uninterestedly at the untouched food on his tray. Gil patted Mal's shoulder before turning back to address the whole table again. "We've all got exams coming up this year and I know we're nervous but I can already tell that we're going to smash them! There's a big game this weekend. We'll rest well the night before and do our best you guys." He clapped Jay on the back, who then proceeded to nearly choke on his sandwich, met with shy laughter and smiles. Chad smiled at his boyfriend fondly, squeezing his hand. They'd all heard enough by now but nobody had the heart to tell him. So he continued. "We're all going through things right now so it's important that we have each other to pick us up. Like Uma, I can tell that you're thinking a lot about Harry right now, and it's clearly hurting you and stressing you out so-"

"Gil." She stopped him there. The weight that had been collectively lifted off the group's shoulders suddenly sagged even harder and Mal couldn't exactly pinpoint why. Uma's whole body had tensed up and her cheeks were burning red, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. Gil swallowed, cowering back into his seat like a child at her stare. 

"I'm sorry Uma." He said softly, head hung in evident shame. The rest of the group watched the exchange like eager spectators, watching and waiting to see just what Uma would do next. 

"Don't say that name here." Her voice was quiet, barely inaudbile even, and Mal suddenly felt like she'd walked in on something she shouldn't have. She looked around the table, unsure if she should laugh it off or try and start another conversation or maybe even just walk away. But before she could say anything, Uma had jumped up from the bench. 

Gil immediately perked up, clearly feeling extremely guilty. He was desperate now. "I'm really really sorry Uma, I just thought that if we talked about Harry then maybe we could finally move on." 

A pause.

Gil seemed to have realised instantly that he shouldn't have said it again but he knew the weight of his words had already been dealt and there was nothing more he could say now, so instead, he just stared pleadingly into Uma's dark eyes from across the table. Mal wasn't sure, but it almost didn't feel like a plea for forgiveness anymore. She could see pain behind Gil's gentle eyes. 

Uma straightened her posture, staring right back at him as she laughed. "Harry? Who's that?" Before she picked up her tray and walked out, leaving Gil to stare emptily at the space she had just filled.

After another pause, Chad took his arm, slowly standing up and pulling him away, removing him from the room. They didn't come back. 

They ate in silence. 

* * *

Following the lunch incident, Mal's day remained rather uneventful. She intended to keep it that way. She was purposefully avoiding everyone and anything. In particular, former mermaids and unwanted lunch mates. She'd had a mundane afternoon of lectures and lessons with homework that she could use as an excuse to not leave her house tonight. Because surely, somehow, Ben would find a way to try and get her out again. Mal didn't care that she had to take the bus today, which took a significantly longer route and would mean she'd have to walk up the hill to Golden Gate and it would be crowded and stuffy but anything was better than the suffocating walls of Ben's car. 

Once the bell rang for the end of the day, she didn't hesitate before leaping out of her seat and making a beeline for the door. The corridors and foyer were empty when she arrived at the front of the building, her speediness rewarding her. She was determined to make it out unspotted, her mind fixated on the bus stop just outside of school, feet striding towards the entrance. Freedom was so close. Maybe just this once. She was so focused in her own bubble that she didn't realise she'd been shoved until she tripped over her own feet, colliding with the immaculate marble tile. 

She'd managed to catch herself so that she didn't hit anything but the fall still knocked the wind out of her, a moment passing before her vision steadied and she came to her senses, able to look up at exactly who or what had hit her. 

It was a girl. She was taller than Mal but Mal wouldn't exactly call her 'tall'. She wore a fitting black pencil skirt paired with a red turtleneck, layered with a dark blue leather jacket but she didn't have any shoes on. Instead, she clutched her boots - which were impossibly high heeled - in her right hand, her other hand holding on to the door. She was looking back and forth between the exit and Mal, as if contemplating whether or not it was worth it to help her up. Mal, offended, took the opportunity to properly study her face.

Her hair was a radiant and warm shade of blue, pinned back into a loose low ponytail, tied with a strand of her own hair rather than a hairband, that looked like it would come apart at any moment. Messy little whisps of hair fell over her eyes, which were a rich and decadent shade of brown, staring hauntingly through her. As if she knew her.

"Evie?"

What followed was not the reaction that Mal had hoped for. The loud noises of chatter and buzz of the rest of the students were closing in on them and it was then that the blue haired girl remembered where she was going and why, bolting out of the door without even looking back at her. 

Mal was left, to pick herself up off the floor, staring off into the outside with a feeling of emptiness that she couldn't quite describe. She didn't know what to do or say, the confrontation (if that was what you'd call it) having left her speechless and stunned. She completely forgot about her desire to make it out unseen. She didn't even realise as heaps of students started to pour past her, weaving inbetween her to get out and go home. It was only when she felt Ben, who had pulled her out of the way of the door, that she snapped back to reality.

"So do you want to come?" He finished, smiling at her expectantly. Mal turned to him, her brows furrowing together before realising he was asking her something. Slowly but surely she shook her head. It was obvious to Ben that something was up, but he knew that today been rough for her and he didn't want to pry, linking his arm in hers as he walked her out the building. "Alright, but I'll drive you home, I insist. You almost forgot your truffles by the way, I brought them with me."

His voice seemed to drone off into the hustle and bustle but Mal didn't have it in her to resist, letting Ben carry her away. 

* * *

There was a storm that night. It was deafening. Thunder and lighting crashing overhead, creating a harrowing soundscape of uneasiness. 

Mal sat in her studio, curled up by the fireplace with her sketchbook in hand. She would always come here when she couldn't sleep, but tonight it didn't feel like an escape. She sat still, staring desolately at the drawing in front of her. A blue haired girl with rich, decadent, chocolate eyes. Trepidation forging its own storm in those otherwise perfect orbs. 

She couldn't look at it a moment longer.

She tore the page from the book, crumpling it in her hand before tossing it to the fire, watching as the roaring embers put the girl and her hysterics to rest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of lore to this chapter with a lot more characters! And of course, even more questions that have now been left unanswered. Mal's a little bit of an unreliable narrator folks, but you can't blame her. Just don't believe everything you hear.
> 
> Thanks so much for the positive reception to the first chapter! I'm so excited to flesh out this story and this world and all of the questions you guys are proposing are things that I've already thought out and am buzzing to share with you all. Let me know what you think :)
> 
> tumblr: @thomasdohertyy


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